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by Scarlett Finn


  ‘You’re here for me Kitten, for what I want. You better learn how to do what you’re told.’

  From the way his breath moved from her face to her breasts, Flick knew Rushe’s angle had changed. Sure enough, though his strength kept her arms back, his mouth drew a nipple in again, digging his teeth into the stinging flesh, making Flick jerk. But that served to remind her of his member still solid within her enflamed centre.

  Keeping her arms in place, Rushe shifted his hold to guide her hands to the opposite elbow; forcing her to keep the position he had put her in. But when she expected him to fondle her breasts again she was disappointed, but only for a few seconds.

  Scooping around her lower back Rushe clamped her hips in place, then the digits from his other hand found their way between them and he massaged her clit. Flick sighed out and took his invitation to lean her weight back on his supporting arm, giving Rushe more access.

  His fingers slid through the juices between them and traced an arc around where his dick impaled her. She wriggled against that union, and Rushe went through the motion again.

  But the next time instead of leaving her clit, they stayed in place. He rubbed her clit, and it was only when he started to move in and out of her again that she noticed he’d lifted them slightly off the chair. Still he steadied her weight, swiped her clit, and took control over fucking her.

  Flick said his name, over and over, her volume building with the heat of pressure within her abdomen, and on the spasm of her womb she flung her arms around his neck. Rushe, it seemed, was beyond caring about the game because he had them on the floor. He pumped in and out of her, and at the second and third crescendo Flick braced her nails in the back of his neck and screamed out in time with his growl.

  Their eyes joined with the last remnants of orgasm washing over them, but Rushe didn’t stay long. He got to his feet and put his dick back in his jeans.

  He needed a shower after that for sure, but he didn’t seem to be heading in that direction.

  ‘Be good,’ he muttered, then stepped over her and went to the front door.

  When it slammed into its frame Flick jumped, but she stayed on the floor, her heart hammering in her chest, thumping between the emptiness of the home and the hard wooden floor at her back. Again she was alone, again Rushe believed it was in her best interest, and again she’d had no say in the matter whatsoever.

  Chapter Twelve

  Counting down the last thirty minutes of her Sunday night shift, Flick didn’t relish the idea of going home to no one. She hadn’t seen Rushe or Whyte in the Lounge again. Tomorrow she would have to get herself all prettied up like a doll to tease a billionaire she had no intention of letting anywhere near her body.

  Feeling useless was bad enough. So far as she could tell, working here hadn’t helped the case at all. Then, as though by magic, the hotel door opened and a man walked in alone. That man was Joey Galante Junior. Until now all she’d heard was stories of this man, now she had laid eyes on him. Granted, she had seen his yearbook picture, and she’d seen his mug shot from when he was busted for solicitation, daddy had to have loved that.

  But even if she hadn’t seen those pictures she would have known he was Joseph Galante Junior. He was his father’s son, his spitting image. Both had black hair, but Joey’s was longer and ruffled in a devil-may-care fashion. With sharp eyes and olive skin, Joey had four inches on his father’s height, putting him at about six foot.

  ‘That is Joey.’ Kimberly came up beside Flick, who was still gawping, which wasn’t very professional of her, so she averted her attention. ‘He’s usually down here all the time. But his girlfriend’s all high maintenance. Don’t know what she bitches at him about, he throws money around like it’s water, not that you’ll hear me complaining. She used to work down here, well for like a week.’

  During her co-worker’s speech Joey had been talking to every person he passed. He stopped at every table to pat shoulders and shake hands. From how flummoxed some people were Flick knew that they didn’t know who he was. But Joey kept that broad, shining smile in place and traversed the distance like a movie star.

  Once he finished with the last patron, he switched his focus to her and Kimberly at the bar. Kimberly he knew, but his perusal of her figure felt no more than polite. When Flick became the object in his sights, he took extra care to examine her figure. After mentally noting her measurements he landed the smile on her, and though Flick actually wanted to smack him in the head with a tray, she smiled back.

  ‘Hello,’ Joey said, stopping directly in front of her and lifting a hand to shake. ‘I’m Joey.’

  ‘She knows who you are,’ Kimberly said. ‘Everyone around here knows who you are.’

  ‘Hey, Kimmy,’ Joey said, though he remained intent on Flick. Kimberly disappeared toward a group of beckoning customers. ‘You’re a sweet little package.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Flick said. Her height, coupled with the flawless complexion she got from her mother, made Flick look about Lisa’s age, and in this situation that could be an advantage. ‘You own the casino next door.’

  ‘Heir apparent,’ he said, taking her hand up to his mouth.

  ‘You’re very kind,’ Flick said, ensuring to bat her eyelashes in a way she’d managed to minimise outside of Whyte’s company.

  ‘Happy employees are productive employees,’ he said, leaning closer. ‘What can I do to make you happy?’

  Flick knew that men with money and position could be arrogant. She knew that they could be superior S.O.B’s, and she knew they expected the world. But the men in this place took things a step further.

  Davis had eyed her with intent until Whyte stepped in. Whyte had been forward enough in asking her out so quickly, and making all the decisions about their date without knowing a thing about her. Now Joey was in here, clearly expecting her to drop her panties and bend over the nearest solid structure.

  ‘What can we do for you, Joey?’ Rosa asked, joining them, and not a moment too soon in Flick’s opinion, though the Lothario still hadn’t given her back her hand.

  ‘Maybe I’m just thirsty,’ he said, kissing Flick’s knuckles again.

  ‘You don’t come down here to drink alone, there’s alcohol stocked in the suite you live in upstairs,’ Rosa said. Flick could now confirm that he lived in the hotel. ‘Where’s Lisa?’

  Joey dropped Flick’s hand and stepped back, landing a furious stare on Flick’s boss. ‘Your girlfriend?’ Flick said, all innocence. ‘Kimberly told me that she used to work here.’

  ‘Briefly,’ Rosa said, watching the playboy.

  ‘I’m sick of the sight of her,’ Joey griped, and nodded past Flick at Marv.

  ‘Trouble in paradise?’ Rosa asked. ‘Tell me, do you two ever get along?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Must make for dynamite sex,’ Kimberly said, joining the group and passing an order to Marv as the barman gave Joey his drink.

  Joey’s glint reappeared. ‘You ever want me to show you again, Kimmy...’ He left the question open, and the waitress smiled. Rosa still just glared at Joey.

  ‘I think I learned my lesson,’ Kimberly said.

  Flick could now confirm that screwing the waitresses was a regular pastime for Joey, which may not bode well for her. As could be predicted, Joey, again, openly perused Flick’s figure.

  ‘Don’t get any ideas about that one,’ Rosa said. ‘She’s taken.’

  ‘Boyfriend?’

  Flick started, ‘Well I—’

  ‘I can work around him,’ Joey said, in a faux joke. Flick’s mind stuck on the idea of anyone trying to circumvent Rushe.

  ‘She’s dating Evan,’ Rosa said.

  ‘Whyte?’ Joey smirked. ‘They never last long with him.’

  ‘Joey and Evan have known each other for years,’ Rosa said.

  Flick pricked her ears; she had to be interested but not too interested. Kimberly’s order was ready, so she took the tray away from the bar.

  ‘They went to school
together,’ Rosa continued. ‘After that Evan went on to work hard, make money, and become successful. Joey spent his father’s money and developed addictions to drugs and sex.’

  ‘Wouldn’t trade a day,’ Joey said, trying to shrug off Rosa’s words as teasing, but Flick could tell they were grating on him.

  ‘You two must know each other very well,’ Flick said to Rosa and Joey.

  ‘Sure,’ Joey said. ‘She’s been banging the old man for more than ten years. Still, she sits in this damp, dark little hole pouring the drinks for the clients.’

  Rosa seethed, and with a sharp inhale, she spun around and marched away, at which time Joey declared victory by standing taller and bringing all focus back to Flick.

  ‘I can work around Whyte too,’ Joey said, retrieving her hand from her side. ‘I often have to keep his women happy because he fails to.’

  ‘You’ve slept with your best friend’s girlfriends?’

  His chin angled an inch closer. ‘Who said he was my best friend?’

  ‘You went to school together and—‘

  ‘He’s closer to my old man than me. We don’t enjoy the same... pursuits.’

  If Joey was into women and drugs during the time Whyte built his business empire, Flick wasn’t surprised they’d lost patience with, and interest in, each other.

  ‘Won’t your girlfriend worry about you?’

  ‘It’ll do her good to wonder,’ Joey said. ‘Are you working tomorrow night?’

  Flick shook her head. ‘I’m Thursday to Sunday.’

  ‘Ah,’ Joey said. ‘Might explain why I’ve not seen you then. I frequent on Mondays.’

  ‘Are Mondays special?’ Flick asked him.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Joey said, bringing his body even closer to hers, and in this space with the bar behind them she couldn’t wriggle away. ‘Could I interest you in a shift change?’

  ‘I asked for a shift change,’ Flick said. ‘Rosa said it wasn’t possible.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave it to me,’ Joey said.

  ‘You can switch me on to a Monday? Won’t that upset Rosa?’

  ‘Rosa’s always upset. She’s been working this bar since it’s been here; she’s been here longer than the furniture.’

  ‘Why does she stay?’

  ‘The girl...’ Joey trailed off, seemingly searching for an explanation. ‘Can’t stay away I guess.’

  Flick didn’t know Galante Senior, but stringing Rosa along for all these years was reprehensible. Joey had come into this place like a king, he spoke with entitlement, and he obviously felt that extended to the employees.

  ‘She must love your father very much,’ Flick said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Joey said with a smile that humoured her naivety, but it quickly vanished. ‘I’ve got to clear something up with her. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back.’

  Joey disappeared from Flick’s line of vision to cross past where they stood, presumably to seek out Rosa again. Flick saw a table in need of service, and she went toward it. She wouldn’t stay put, she wanted to go home, because she had no intention of being anywhere near Joey again tonight or ever again if she could help it.

  Sleeping was difficult without Rushe; Flick knew it was ridiculous and corny that she needed his frame under hers in order to get a stable night’s sleep, but she did. Rushe gave her a work out, sleeping came naturally after their sexual exploits, and if she was unsettled she could play with Rushe’s body, or have him play with hers, until she was tired enough to sleep.

  So instead of sleeping she stayed up sewing the buttons back on her adopted shirt. Flick loved the shirt because it was the very first thing Rushe had given her, and he’d given her it to keep her safe, to comfort her, even if that hadn’t been clear at the time. Sewing wasn’t her strong suit. Growing up with a silver spoon in her mouth meant that she hadn’t known how to do many household tasks. When she decided to strike out on her own, strike out she did, repeatedly. But she had learned that these things needed practise, so just like with the cooking and the cleaning, and public transport, she kept on. She persevered, and now they were part of her life.

  By the time she was finished, it was clear that the job wasn’t a professional one, but it held together, and now it had character, and another memory woven within its fabric. The task had exhausted her enough to sleep for a couple of hours before she had to prepare for her date with Whyte.

  Whether she saw Rushe tonight or not, Flick was confident that he would be loitering around somewhere. His surveillance offered contradictory comfort and anxiety.

  If she appeared to lower her guard Rushe would fume, and if Whyte got too close or did something Rushe deemed over the line, then Flick wouldn’t see him coming. Whyte would be nothing but a stain on the wall.

  Before leaving the bedroom, Flick couldn’t look at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t look at the kitchen, or the dining table, or anywhere, as she moved through the apartment. Rushe was everywhere, but he was nowhere, and she understood how empty her life was without his form near hers. So she ran from the place, bolted the door, and got to the street as fast as she could.

  Nestling herself in the back of the cab, Flick tried to psyche herself up. She was going out tonight to find out what she could about Lisa. She might get more information from Whyte on the issue now that she had met Joey. Flick would wait until Whyte talked himself out, and then she would tell him of the encounter she had with Joey.

  If Rosa was adamant about Flick not changing shifts, then she may have spoken with Galante about it. In turn, Galante Senior may have spoken to Whyte, and Flick might find him opening the conversation for her.

  Before she could worry about extracting information from Whyte, she had to meet him at the casino. Quicker than she would have liked, her request was granted. Flick made herself smile until her cheeks stretched; she walked to the broad entrance hidden under a deep awning. Whyte wanted to impress her. He thought she was innocent. Flick had a role to play, and she would have to get good at this game quickly; Rushe might depend on her.

  Whyte was there to greet her, and though he didn’t say it Flick knew he hadn’t been convinced she would show up.

  ‘You made it,’ he said, sweeping her hand up in both of his to kiss her knuckles.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s wonderful.’

  When she had come for her interview she’d been hurried into a side office and hadn’t experienced the full impact of the casino. The whole floor was alive with activity. In the Lounge their numbers were nothing like this. Hundreds of people were in this labyrinth of a space, music played out of a nearby speaker, slot machines clicked and beeped, their noise signalling to the masses how each game was progressing. The clatter of chips occasionally broke through and grew louder when Whyte drew her further through the cavern of flashing lights and rich, sweet scents. Flick paused and tried to identify the smell, but Whyte kept hold of her.

  ‘Come with me.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Flick asked.

  Whyte kept them moving on the periphery of the room, past the clamouring masses. ‘Private event.’

  Flick had fallen for that one before, so she wrenched her hand free of his to stop. ‘Oh no, I don’t think we should be alone when—‘

  ‘We won’t be alone. There are some people I would like you to meet.’

  ‘Meet?’ she asked. Whyte tried to take her hand again, but she kept it out of reach. ‘How many people are at this event?’

  ‘Eight or ten,’ he said, without much consideration. ‘If you don’t enjoy yourself then we can leave. But you’ve met Joseph Galante and Richard Davis already, they were with me the night you and I met. Joseph’s son will be there, and his girlfriend. They’re all people who live here at the hotel, people I consider close friends.’

  Flick had been sold as soon as she heard the first name, but she maintained her timid demeanour and eventually nodded. ‘Ok, a few minutes couldn’t hurt.’

  Whyte took her hand to his side and spun, while keeping her o
n his heel he strode on with intent. At the very back of the room they passed an elevator bank, and then there was a door marked private. A casino security guard was at the door, but he moved aside when Whyte approached.

  He made a show of opening the door for her while nodding at the guard, reminding her of just how much power he had here. Whyte took her hand again and led them down a wide corridor.

  ‘This place is huge,’ Flick said.

  ‘You’ll find your way around quickly enough,’ Whyte said, and took them to a large door on the left of the corridor. The door was simply marked with a shining brass A.

  He opened it and swept her inside, tucking her body close to his when he came in at her back. The large room had more than eight people here, there were maybe fifteen or twenty, but there were two distinct groups: the males and the females.

  ‘This is a function room,’ Whyte said, slipping a hand around her waist. ‘We’ve held public events here before, but mostly we use it ourselves. There’s a private access up to the hotel in the back corner.’

  Flick wasn’t reassured by that, and neither was she reassured by the sight of Richard Davis behind the bar pouring a drink for himself. It made her realise that there were no staff here.

  Four of the men broke ranks with the other men, and at their action four women broke from the female group. This group of eight then moved down the room. Flick didn’t see where they went, because she became aware of a tingling in her gut.

  Whyte urged her forward at the same moment the tingling thudded to a halt. On lifting her eyes she saw him, Rushe. He was in the group where the other men had been, concealed from open view by the pillar that held up the bar. But he was there, and he was watching her.

  Flick hated the game. Right now she was sharing a space with the man she loved and missed so much, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to acknowledge it.

  ‘So this is the girl,’ one of the women said.

  Flick hadn’t seen the women join the men, because their numbers had thinned the two groups merged into one. Now there were only four women in the room, including her. The woman in the centre of the group was young, and she looked just like her picture.

 

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